Dog Days
August the Teenth, and hot;
Runs the riot of the rot.
In these septic days of summer
Sounds begin to simmer
And the tidal pools pour over.
Those curs, those mocking frogs,
Leap from beach to logs.
They scare away the sheep
& take away my sleep.
The sand begins to catch fire.
Fire is a hunter.
It is bound and out for Winter,
But going nowhere.
Canis Major stops amd stares
Into the sticky sun's glare.
poem by Stan Petrovich
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Related quotes
Fold It All Away
The fire, the heat, the hungry daze -
I will fold it all away.
Like clothes just meant for summer days
It’s winter now - cold here to stay
You made my heart soar and leap
And now my heart will go to sleep
Like clothes just meant for summer days
It’s winter now - cold here to stay
All desire in me is gone -
Another’s touch would just feel wrong
Like clothes just meant for summer days
It’s winter now - cold here to stay
Your smile’s engraved inside my head,
The view of you, touching foreheads
Like clothes just meant for summer days
It’s winter now - cold here to stay
A kiss that made my heart melt,
Feelings I had never felt
Like clothes just meant for summer days
It’s winter now - cold here to stay
I loved to hear your laughter most
But now the sound will be a ghost
Like clothes just meant for summer days
I will fold it all away
Such warmth and love can never stay
I will fold
It all
Away
Higher than I’ve ever been
The fall is here - let it begin
But I will rise again someday
The cold and winter cannot stay
For now that day seems far away
Like clothes just meant for summer days
And I will fold
Every piece
Away
It’s winter now
The cold
Will stay
Catch A Fire
Me and you
Ooh
In the heat of the sun
Our life has begun
Like a flame
Me and you
Ooh
All alone in the sand
I will burn in your hand
And my sould will arise to the sky
Catch a wind, catch a rainbow, catch a fire
Catch a fire, catch a fire
Catch a wind, catch a rainbow, catch a fire
Catch a wind, catch a rainbow, catch a fire
Catch a fire
Me and you
Ooh
In the night we will hide
In the flow of the tide
Oh the shore
Me and you
Ooh
There's a message for me
In the sound fo the sea
I must hold you and never let go
You just gotta go
All you need
You can have
All my, all my, all my love
song performed by by Haddaway
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Frost Fire
Toes deaden.
Breath smelts to lead.
Hot needles dance in fingers.
Backs turn to snails.Ears hum coffee.
The fire swaggerswith logs
andwith a shrivela crack
a satisfactionyour simmer heart
sips
from high in the skya seething sleep.
poem by August Stramm
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Divine Fire
In the dence forest
He walks with mother
Far fire views
Sparkled in the Brain
Returned the cave
Days and nights
Fire Burns in his head
With the heat of Sun
He lay down the rock
Near by the stream
walks from autumn
winter spring summer
At last he realise
The real inner fire
To torned the bow logs
And view Fire smiles
Afflamed the Holy pond
Offered dry spices
Oil and leaves
And retain for fair
The Holy fire
Gave Him all
And the Nature
For cure and cool.
poem by Vinod Kumar
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Winter Love
when it begins to get cold
and the snow begins to fall
love shines like pure gold
cuddled together by the coals
watching movies
playing board games
patching up the memories
you will never be bored
for true love
is a fire
the core of your heart
just keep that fire hot
soon when winter ends
the fire might come to an end
and you will always remember that winter
even in the light of summer
poem by Jason Lovelace
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The Moon.
The moon
Oh catch the moon
Put a noose in its nose
Bring it back to harness
The icy wilderness of the noon
Sprinkle it with flowered dew.
Catch it before it runs
To penumbra of sun hide itself
Oh run and run to recover
From suffocation of grief & bart
Stiffen its dust with tears
Or the ceremonial flood
Of the tidings of the present
The anti poetic
Peregrine of the sedged cart
The olibanum of crushed heart.
The moon
Oh catch the moon
Catch it till it runs
To the hilliard mansions
The septic pun
Where the master of hounds sleep
With his metallic face
Turned to the wall
Where under the greenish shadows
Shines the dool
The moon
Oh catch the moon
Catch it before it runs
To the penumbra of the sun.
poem by Durlabh Singh
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Ringing The Bell: The Olypics
You still have fire.
I also have my fire.
we can take both, one's
own, or one unique fire and go
to race in the Olympics;
or we can leave some fire for the next winter
Olympics;
so we can both
sprint run,
wrestle,
do all the gym acrobats,
sand volleyball,
free four hundreds swimming, and
ski under the heavy blue sky.
So, do you have
enough
fire?
or do you need
to barrow some of my fire?
poem by Atef Ayadi
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Last Rose Of Summer
Throughout the soft and timeless days of august
til now the shadows begin to grow much longer
The sunsets fire has deepened blood red
I give you this, the last rose of summer
A token of my unyielding love
So when the winters mantle stills the earth
And all around seems dead and cold
This rose reminds you of a time when all was warm and living
Do not despair, mother nature simply rests
In sleep she has well earned
til one day not so very far from now
With the opening of the first rose buds I shall return
A token of my unyielding love
So that when winters mettle steals the earth
And all around seems dead and cold
This rose reminds you of a time when all was warm and living
The last rose of summer
The last rose of summer
In your long shadows
The last rose of summer
In the sunset
The last rose of summer
Take this rose that I give you
The last rose of summer
The last rose of summer
Dont worry about the winter
The last rose of summer
I shall return
The last rose of summer
The last rose of summer
(fade)
song performed by by Judas Priest
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Grenouillage à Trois
Deep in the forest, on two logs
were perched two rather handsome frogs.
The logs were pretty close together
and served as shelters for the weather.
Now, on the smaller of the logs
was sitting, still, the bigger frog.
He looked across and had discovered
that on a tree a third frog hovered,
apparently intent to pounce!
He must have weighed a paltry ounce.
They say that from necessity
all frogs, no matter where they be
will act. So this one did pretend
for competition soon to end
that in the tree the frog was meat,
a moth or insect he would eat.
Thus ends the story of the frogs
on trees and on two fallen logs,
while after all they got together
and sheltered in their log from weather.
poem by Herbert Nehrlich
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Summer Haze
Red hot sunburn,
and a light brown tan,
cool water,
and scorching sand,
sunkissed blondes,
and burnt brunettes,
beach bum habits,
at summer's best,
family laughter,
and friends galore,
cook out,
night out,
and sticky s'mores,
swimsuit savy,
and towels soaked,
boats are ready,
lets give a toast,
firelfly catching,
barefeet in the grass,
sliver attaching,
it's summer at last,
a breeze's relief,
from the sun's repetetive wave,
umbrella's shelter,
from the too hot day,
beach balls flying,
over the netm
tubers crying,
the best summer yet,
camera's flash,
people pose,
snap shots taken,
when?
nobody knows!
genuine smiles,
genuine fun,
in this summer haze,
these summer days,
we share the summer love
The Fruits Of Sleep
the real job is to house-keep
what is not knee-deep
one knows how to leap
and go away from the sheep
the mountains are steep
more women shall weep
things simmer and seep
comes the time to reap
all the fruits of nice sleep
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Last Days of Summer
Whatever the way the summer days end,
In the type of summer is how it has been,
Whether a good one or bad one,
The last days of summer,
Can be sad or happy endings,
As each season ends,
With another one beginning,
The summer could have been,
Miserable yet,
Sun scorching us everyday,
And sunlight shining on all our faces,
It is how it is,
Out there where all is seen,
In,
Summer days of fun,
Summer days of love,
Summer days of seeing,
Summer days of been,
Out and about where summer is,
And when summer came and went?
With a mundane feeling that it left?
Was the last days of summer,
And the begining of another,
Autumn as we know it,
Fall in other places,
Where the ending of one season shows,
By the decaying of it,
When Autumn Fall shows,
Where we will wrap up and snuggle,
With warm cuppas drinks,
With a book,
Or,
Catch up on watching films,
Yet,
Still,
Musing over the summer days,
Of sunshine memories,
Now,
Warm hats and gloves,
With rustle leaves,
That rustle beneath,
Our feet as we walk,
Through the park,
And see,
The summer leaves turn,
To autumn shades,
Taking in,
The last days of summer,
Reflecting,
And remember,
The falls of Autumn's,
Is the signs of summer,
That has ended,
And minglings with,
All that falls,
From the summer ending,
To autumn beginnings,
Is the,
Decaying,
Of summer,
To regrow itself,
For next season's of summer,
When it begins again,
Yet,
In between,
There's,
Autumn,
Winter,
Spring,
Till,
Again,
Last days of summer,
And all in bloom again.
poem by Ellen Ni Bheachain
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Options for children on a rainy day
Go to the pool with the slide
And get wetter
Make sandcastles on the beach
(Sticky sand much better)
Go inside to dry by the fire
Find a coloring book and color
Play board games until you tire
Share funny stories at dinner
More available, just add water...
poem by Harriet James
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Fire in my head
My thought cloud up
Like pools of smoke
Oops I'm sorry
My mentalstability just broke
Because of the fire in my head.
With nightmares I am wishing
Were just dreams
Silence is broken by shattered screams
My floor is covered in pools of red In all this fire in my head
My pulse pounding
In my mind
Fire alarms sounding
What did they find?
Me. Curled up in a ball
Shaking in the corner of the wall.
Because of the fire in my head..
poem by Midnight Lily
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Wine by the Fire on a Cold Winter Night
Wine by the fire on a cold winter night a Gelid concordant. The snows of winter has fallen; and the
Winds are decrescent
Wildlife are
Indefatigable
In
Winter-land
Wine by the fire on a cold winter night. Monumental snows are glaciated; and the
Valleys below are elongated
In an alabaster,
Powdery
Splendor.
Engaging winter, where polar bears are denning
And accumbented in a long
Winter sleep. Winter's prelusory; for the translucent amber,
Gild, of autumn to a dulcify
In their joining. As we dine epicurean, in the comforts of clover;
And bonivant on tasty
Wines.
Wine by the fire on a cold winter night as we
Amorously commingle as one in A fervent that's
Second to None And the taste of
Wine by the fire on a cold winter
Night.
poem by Jr. J. Thomas
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The Spring—Time, O The Spring--Time
The Spring-time, O the Spring-time!
Who does not know it well?
When the little birds begin to build,
And the buds begin to swell.
When the sun with the clouds plays hide-and-seek,
And the lambs are bucking and bleating,
And the colour mounts to the maiden's cheek,
And the cuckoo scatters greeting;
In the Spring-time, joyous Spring-time!
The Summer, O the Summer!
Who does not know it well?
When the ringdoves coo the long day through,
And the bee refills his cell.
When the swish of the mower is heard at morn,
And we all in the woods go roaming,
And waiting is over, and love is born,
And shy lips meet in the gloaming;
In the Summer, ripening Summer!
The Autumn, O the Autumn!
Who does not know it well?
When the leaf turns brown, and the mast drops down,
And the chestnut splits its shell.
When we muse o'er the days that have gone before,
And the days that will follow after,
When the grain lies deep on the winnowing-floor,
And the plump gourd hangs from the rafter;
In the Autumn, thoughtful Autumn!
The Winter, O the Winter!
Who does not know it well?
When, day after day, the fields stretch gray,
And the peewit wails on the fell.
When we close up the crannies and shut out the cold,
And the wind sounds hoarse and hollow,
And our dead loves sleep in the churchyard mould,
And we feel that we soon shall follow;
In the Winter, mournful Winter!
poem by Alfred Austin
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Sandpiper
The roaring alongside he takes for granted,
and that every so often the world is bound to shake.
He runs, he runs to the south, finical, awkward,
in a state of controlled panic, a student of Blake.
The beach hisses like fat. On his left, a sheet
of interrupting water comes and goes
and glazes over his dark and brittle feet.
He runs, he runs straight through it, watching his toes.
- Watching, rather, the spaces of sand between them
where (no detail too small) the Atlantic drains
rapidly backwards and downwards. As he runs,
he stares at the dragging grains.
The world is a mist. And then the world is
minute and vast and clear. The tide
is higher or lower. He couldn't tell you which.
His beak is focussed; he is preoccupied,
looking for something, something, something.
Poor bird, he is obsessed!
The millions of grains are black, white, tan, and gray
mixed with quartz grains, rose and amethyst.
poem by Elizabeth Bishop
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Slave Driver
Slave driver the table is turned
Catch a fire so you can get burned
Slave driver the table is turned
Catch a fire you're gonna get burned
Ev'ry time I hear a crack of the whip
My blood runs cold
I remember on the slave ship
How they brutalised their very souls
Today they say that we are free
Only to be chained in poverty
Good god
song performed by by Bob Marley from Catch A Fire
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Summer Is
Summer is the breeze blowing through the grass in June
It is running carelessly through the meadows
It is taking off your shoes and feeling the grass tickle your toes
It is sitting on the porch at night sipping lemonade
Summer is the fireworks in July
It is going swimming at the pool with your closest friends
It is feeling nothing but happiness
It is the times you don’t want to forget
Summer is walking through the sand in August
It is the memories you have forever
It is what you never want to end
It is always what you look forward to in the winter
Summer ends September begins
Back to school
Back to cold weather
Back to wishing it were summer
poem by ChaCha Poet
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The Beach On A Winters Day
The rows of wooden groynes where we once bathed in warm sunshine
Are now battered by the sea,
Waves crash along the shoreline
And go on endlessly.
The beach that was so crowded with people in the summer
On what seemed like endless days of sun,
I walk along the deserted seashore
And now I am the only one.
I think about those summer days
Of barbicue picknicks and strawberries and cream,
But now these cold dark winter days
Make the summer like some very far off dream.
I stand and look up at the clifftops
That tower above me so high,
While out at sea lights of distant ships
Light the darkened sky,
The sea that was so warm and blue in the summer
Is now so stormy and grey,
Now I just sit here and dream of summer
On the beach on a winters day.
poem by Gordon Butchers
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